


Progress

by Suzie_b



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_b/pseuds/Suzie_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monster. Cid had heard the word enough times to want to punch the next person who said it, as long as the next person who said it had long dark hair and red, mako stained eyes. It pissed him off no end. Pissed him off so much that he couldn't come up with a swear word or list of swear words to encompass the feeling and he couldn't smoke enough to get rid of the urge to come up with new ways to convince the man otherwise, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Progress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elfen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfen/gifts).



Monster. Cid had heard the word enough times to want to punch the next person who said it, as long as the next person who said it had long dark hair and red, mako stained eyes. It pissed him off no end. Pissed him off so much that he couldn't come up with a swear word or list of swear words to encompass the feeling and he couldn't smoke enough to get rid of the urge to come up with new ways to convince the man otherwise, either.

It wasn't that he could figure out exactly why it pissed him off so much to hear it, it simply did and that was all that mattered. There was only so much a person could take and even a man like Cid Highwind had his limits. Usually they were loud, cranky limits.

Sure, he'd seen the changes Vincent went through, up to and including his more demonic moments, but as long as those attacks and claws weren't aimed at him (alright, so maybe the clawing wouldn't be so bad, but damn), why should Cid give so much as a half flown fuck? It didn't change the fact that the Turk was damned reliable and, if he were going to admit it, not half so hard to look at for prolonged periods of time, either.

Not that any of those thoughts mattered since the tent he'd been working on now lay half assembled in front of him and the person he was supposed to be sharing it with had announced that he didn't care about the process and walked away. It took all Cid had to resist the urge to kick the damned thing flat on the wet grass and stomp off, but there were clouds gathering on a horizon they all were loath to glance at and spending the night in the rain wasn't an appealing thought.

With that incentive, Cid managed to put the tent together without any left over parts, though he was sorely tempted to make a few jokes concerning a few pieces and a certain spiky haired kid. Unfortunately, he'd given Tifa his word that he wouldn't bring up anything she'd told him up to and including mention of dresses, which was just a crying shame in his opinion. Cloud could do with a little less brooding. In fact, they all could, but he had other sticks to pull out and the primary belonged to someone that wasn't to be found in the immediate vicinity.

A final glance over his handiwork satisfied Cid that he could safely call the job done and take care of the extra details, like filling their canteens with water. Not that it couldn't be done in the morning but the water would be cooler at night and less likely to be filled with the varied insect life that gathered over any body of water in the early hours. Besides, the pilot allowed to himself, it would give him a chance to wash off the dirt of travel now that the girls had gotten their chance during the warmer part of the evening. He wasn't shy, but he wasn't going to go mooning anyone, either, because he'd just never hear the end of it. So, with that in mind he picked up his spear- one never could tell, even if the evening was mostly calm- and headed off toward the stream fed pond that he'd spotted earlier.

It was a short walk, and he barely had time to notice that the moon seemed brighter than usual when his ears picked up the barely audible movement of something in the water. "What the.." But he didn't have time to get the question out completely, he was far too stunned for that. Apparently Vincent's claim of disinterest in setting up the tent had been a cover up for the want for a bath, and had stripped of everything but his gun belt in order to wash. The sight surprised Cid so much so that the canteens dropped to the ground with a clatter even as he smirked. "Well, now there's somethin' you don't see every day," he pointed out with more than a small amount of smugness. "But ya should."

The noise that followed was less a splash than a rapid movement of water and before another word could be said the dangerous part of a rather impressive gun was pointed in Cid's direction. "Turn. Now." It wasn't a request, and Vincent's voice, while still characteristically cold, held just the barest touch of anger. There was also no doubt that the man expected his order to be headed without question.

"Shit, it's not like I ain't never seen a naked ass before, Vincent, but alright. No need to shoot me over an accident. You're the one that bailed on the tent, y'know." As he turned, Cid's curiosity got the better of him and, before he could stop the question from coming out, he was already asking it. "So, you bathe with your gun on? Ain't that a little uncomfortable? I mean, hell.. you know.."

"It's water proof, and we are out in the middle of the wilderness. It would be a bad idea to go anywhere unarmed." Vincent's voice carried the mildest touches of sarcasm, something anyone that didn't know him would never have picked up. He also wasn't making a hurried job of getting out of the water.

Shucking off his jacket, Cid took one last drag from his cigarette before tossing it to the ground as well and grinding it into the dirt with the toe of his boot. "Yeah, it just seems kind of uncomfortable. I mean.. uh.. hell." In the midst of speaking the pilot had glanced over his shoulder without thinking, finding it difficult to talk without being able to see who he was talking too. Thinking became further hampered by the fact that the former Turk had, without a sound, emerged from the water to dress.

"Turn." None of the sarcasm was left in Vincent's voice. "At least attempt to contain your curiosity." The cold tone in which the words were spoken betrayed no touches of anger, but it was clear that he was not amused in the slightest.

"Hey, c'mon, what's that supposed to mean? It's a damned habit. I like to look at the person I'm talkin' to." Cid wasn't about to admit that he liked looking at this person in particular a lot more than most, at least not now. He'd put his foot in it far enough for one night, even by his standards. "You dressed yet? I got these canteens to fill and I want to wash up before the nasties come out."

Vincent paused just short of walking past the blond and, without a word, he picked up the canteens before walking back toward the water. Each was plunged beneath the water to in order to not catch anything from the surface and capped. "Perhaps they already are," he commented as he headed back toward their camp, canteens in hand.

"What the fuck's that supposed to mea.. goddamnit, I hate it when you do that." Cid's words made little apparent impact on the man walking away from him and he was left to swear softly at the last flash of red cloak as it faded into the night. "Well I'll be damned."

Cid had half expected to find the tent empty save for the things he'd placed in there before heading off to bathe. The conversation he'd had with Vincent hadn't led him to believe that the man would be inside, much less already curled up atop the bedroll wrapped in his own cloak-he'd have to remember to do something about replacing that damned thing- and apparently sleeping. "Well, guess that's progress," he muttered to himself as he dropped his boots in the nearest out of the way spot.

Without opening his eyes or even changing his breathing pattern, Vincent betrayed the fact that he was most definitely awake by speaking. "Progress?" It was a simple question, conveyed with only the barest hint of what could have been curiosity on the gunman's part.

"Yeah." Cid had decided that if Vincent wasn't going to be specific about the question, he wouldn't infer what sort of answer was wanted. Besides, it was more fun this way. "Thought you were asleep. You always been this damned quiet?" Not that he expected the question to be answered, but he _was_ curious.

"Are you always this noisy?" At first, it seemed all Vincent was willing to say and silence stretched out for several minutes before he sighed and sat up. "I've told you that I will fight beside you and that you shouldn't expect anything more than that. Everyone else has respected this." The tone indicated that Cid should do the same.

"Yeah, well, I'm not everyone else," Cid replied as he pulled out and lit another cigarette. "You want to know what I think? You're too fuckin' afraid that what happened in our last fight might come up in conversation. Know what? Wasn't our asses you kicked, so we don't give a damn. Not that we'd be around to give a damn if it was our asses you kicked."

"So I've learned." Vincent's bid to head for the door stopped and, for just a moment, there was a look of surprise on the man's face. "You assume much, Cid. I should not have to remind you that I am not entirely human. I have no interest in human contact. The monster you saw today is what I am now," he pointed out before reaching out to untie the flap to head outside.

"Oh no you fuckin' don't. You're gonna stop that shit right now, especially if _I_ have to bunk up with you." Dropping his cigarette into the bowl he'd commandeered to use as an ashtray, Cid reached out to grab hold of Vincent's upper arm, throwing the man just enough off balance to drag him forward. "Which one? During the fight or in the water?"

A soft clink was all the warning given as Vincent caught the front of Cid's shirt in the balled fist of a metallic hand that could have done much more than wrinkle clothing. "Both, or hadn't you noticed this? You seemed interested enough in looking." Leaning in threateningly, he made a noise that could have been a growl had it more volume. "You would do well to be careful."

Smirking at the reaction, Cid gave a rough laugh. "Yeah, we could talk about what I noticed, but you'd just get pissed off." He had thought to say more, but the odd glow of Vincent's eyes took him completely off guard until he heard the low, rattling growl being directed at him. "Hey, I told you it was habit. I didn't _mean_ anything by it. I just don't like you callin' yourself a monster all the damned time. The monster's what we're fighting, not you."

"I am _part_ of that monster you're fighting." Vincent's voice had become deadly soft, and before he realized it he'd pulled Cid closer, glaring menacingly. Then, as if just realizing what he had been doing, he let go and pushed the pilot away from him with little force. "I'm going for some air. You should sleep."

"No you fuckin' don't, we're not done until you admit that I'm right." Cid had yet to let go of his hold on Vincent's arm and he was damned if he would let the man walk away to brood. "Because I _am_ right about this one. I don't know what was done, but I know you're not about to turn on the rest of us, no matter what you think. I mean, hell, you ain't kicked my ass yet, have ya?"

"Then we're not done." Vincent's tone remained flat, though there were edges of anger and uncertainty to be heard by the person who knew what to listen for. "Why is this so important to you? You've known me for a short while and you've seen what happens. In fact, you know very little about me aside from what I've told you. All that I know about you is that you are loud, you smoke too much, and you are incredibly difficult to live with."

For a moment, Cid was at a loss. Everything that Vincent said was true to a point, but he was certain that the words were a diversion from the matter at hand. "So? I know you didn't kick my ass and you could have." Chuckling, the pilot grinned broadly. "On the other hand, I know your ass ain't too bad to look at. ..wait, I'm difficult to live with? Where the hell'd you come up with that? I'm damned easy to live with as long as the person I'm livin' with'll listen to reason."

"You are also very easily distracted." Vincent's attention slipped toward the hand holding his arm, then back to the face of the man it belonged to. "Let go. This is not an argument you are going to win." Again the gunman moved as if his words were going to be heeded, which might have been an effort to hide the faint touch of color which, for Vincent, amounted to an astounding blush.

"I'm just sayin' that I'm not that damned difficult to live with, that's all. Besides, I don't like to let go until I've won, and I'm right. Admit it and I'll let go. Otherwise..." A shrug left the option open to a multitude of possibilities. "You know, Vincent, it's not so hard to do. Just say 'you're right' and I'll shut the hell up and go to sleep. You won't do it, though, will ya. You won't toss me through the other side of this tent, either, because I _**am**_ right and you're _not_ any sort of fuckin' monster."

Growling, Vincent reached out to catch hold of Cid's shirt again, pulling him closer in order to glare at him. "Otherwise, what? You _will_ let go." It might have been the dim lighting or the fact that the former Turk was, to put it bluntly, quite pissed that made the strange glow of his eyes seem to brighten, but he gave little time for consideration of these things. "This conversation is over."

"Otherwise I'll have to find some other way to win this," Cid answered with yet another smirk. "Oh? Good. 'Bout time you shut the hell up." Not that the pilot was going to give any other warning before leaning in to silence both of them with a kiss. If nothing else, he'd caught Vincent off guard.

Off guard and unprepared for the kiss, the only reaction that Vincent could come up with at first was to hold on. It wasn't until the shock wore off and he realized that he was, indeed, returning the kiss that he attempted to push the pilot away from him.

The push prompted Cid to finally let go of Vincent's arm in order to wrap his own about the gunman's waist, making the faint attempts at escape a futile effort. He only had a few scant seconds to note to himself- with no small amount of smugness- that he wasn't getting his ass kicked for his actions before instinct took over and he was soon coaxing Vincent's lips apart to gain further access to his mouth.

It was the necessity for breath that drove Vincent to finally put some effort into pushing Cid away, though he still kept his hold on the man's shirt. "Stop.. just stop.. You don't know what could happen. It's not safe, I've told you that I'm-"

"-A monster. Right. I'm tired of hearin' it. I'll have to shut you up again because, you know something? You haven't done anything to hurt me yet. Guess that means I can trust you a hell of a lot more than I'd trust most." Cid took a second to witness the mild confusion on Vincent's face before he pulled the man into another kiss and began inching them both toward the blankets.

Vincent gave up protest until the sound of his cloak falling to the ground and of his own groan brought their location back to his mind. "Cid.. tent.. the others.." The protest was half hearted at best and quickly lost within the next series of kisses that were interrupted only by the removal of his shirt.

"...are big kids, they can handle it," Cid provided as he leaned back to look at Vincent, still not letting the man go or giving him much time to think. "Unless you can't." It wasn't ever smart to purposely bait someone like Vincent, but Cid had a point to prove and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to prove it.

Vincent rewarded the challenge with a quick glare and a tug at the shirt that he'd still not let go of. "You speak too much and you're over dressed. Or am I the only one who is supposed to be unclothed here, Cid? Perhaps you are the one who is having second thoughts?" Using the time that throwing the pilot off guard afforded him, he grabbed hold of the man's shirt and, with little difficulty, managed to remove it.

"No, you're the one who's supposed to be naked first," Cid corrected with a crooked grin that nearly hid his astonishment at Vincent's words and he proved the point by removing first the gunman's pants and then his own. "Well, damn. You know, I've been waitin' a long time to get you outta your clothes and into my sheets, now I can't figure out why the hell I was waiting."

For a moment, it seemed as if Vincent might speak, but whatever he'd intended to say was lost within Cid's mouth as it devoured his own. It wasn't until they were both laying on one of the bedrolls- whose had become unimportant- that the pilot allowed him to take more than one quick breath. This time there were no protests, only a glance away at their cast aside weapons.

"No you don't, I know that look and I'm not gonna need either, got it? You're not a monster." Cid waited long enough to get a nod of agreement before letting his hands and mouth wander over Vincent's smooth, pale skin. Somewhere in the portion of his mind that could still keep track of these things, he noted that the others would probably know full well what was going on. If the raised voices coming from their tent earlier hadn't been a clue in, the half contained moans he was wringing from his soon to be lover certainly would. Not, he also noted, that he could give a damn.

"Cid.. damnit... You may not think you need one of those weapons but if you don't eventually get around to fucking me I might have to hold a gun to your head," Vincent said, proving once again that he did, indeed, have some semblance of a sense of humor. Even while he spoke, his hand reached out to fumble amongst the half unpacked supplies to find the ointment that they'd earlier used to ease the stings they'd received in their last battle.

Taking the bottle and un-stoppering it, Cid made sure to warm the oily mixture upon his fingers before tracing them along the cleft of the slender man's ass. He added first one finger, then another, careful to go slowly despite Vincent's protests that he should do otherwise. It was when those protests became dire threats couched in colorful expletives that the blond decided that he'd been given all the preparation time he would be allowed.

Taking the distraction Vincent offered by pulling him in for an unexpected kiss, Cid slipped between the gunman's parted thighs and guided himself into place. He was only dimly aware of the feel of cool metal as the fingers of a metallic hand slid toward his lower back, pushing until he felt his cock slide inside. If he didn't think he knew better, he would swear that it wasn't a first on Vincent's part.

The thought lasted for a scant few seconds before thinking of anything aside from movement and pleasure became impossible. Cid remained still until Vincent's incoherent prompting assured him that the initial pain had abated before he began to thrust into him over and over. Their surroundings were completely forgotten, and the presence of others became some dim memory until, all too soon, they were both crying out into the darkness.

After their hearts had slowed and Cid judged them both safely back in the same reality, he reached up to brush Vincent's hair back and look into his eyes. "Want me to say told ya so now or later?" He managed, looking far too smug and pleased with himself. "Gonna admit I'm right now?"

"I will admit that, for now, you are right," Vincent finally answered, not commenting on when he wanted the 'I told you so'. "Is that enough for you?"

 

Cid considered the answer, then nodded. "Well, for now. It's progress."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------   
**Omake**  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yuffie had been fast asleep, the excitements of the day having taken their toll on her in more ways than one. She had bruises on bruises, and she was certain that there were places that ached that she hadn't even been aware of having before.

Still, something had roused her from slumber and was so out of the norm that, until she heard the noise again, she was instantly on guard. Once she identified the noise, Yuffie wasn't certain if she wanted to laugh or fall onto her face in disbelief. "Tifa," she whispered loudly, nudging the bundle of blankets beside her. "Tifa, c'mon, wake up, you gotta hear this."

A hand came our from amidst the blankets, swatting at the poking finger that intruded upon the owner's slumber. "Yuffie, go to sleep." Tifa's voice was tired and irritated, and even the muffling effect of the covers over her head couldn't hide it.

Not to be thwarted, Yuffie pulled the blankets back from Tifa's face. "I'm serious, I _heard_ something." Pausing, she listened again, but no sound interrupted the night. "But I could have sworn--"

Tifa's eyes opened and she gave a firm, decisive shake of her head. "I didn't and neither did you, Yuffie. Go. To. Sleep. We've got a long way to go tomorrow and no one's going to carry you. I mean it. Sleep." With a guarded glance toward the wall that inferred a look beyond it, she shook her head and then buried her face in the pillow again.

"But _Tifa_ , you _heard_ it, didn't you?" The noise filtered into their tent again and Yuffie's expression went from petulance to near shock. "But do you know who those voices /belong/ to--" Yet another stern look from the other woman made silenced her at once.

"I do. So do you. I'm in denial. You're not helping. Sleep." With a huff of her own, Tifa turned her back toward the girl and settled in to attempt to fall asleep once more, glancing upward once or twice as yet more sound made its way through the night.

"You're no fun," Yuffie decided, flopping back onto her blankets and bunching her pillow under her head. "But you know something? I bet Vincent at least smiles a little tomorrow. ....I'll bet ya your cover materia on it," she offered, looking expectantly over at the Tifa shaped lump of blanket.

"Yuffie!" Propping herself up on her elbows, Tifa attempted to look astonished. "You know I can't just bet something like that." She couldn't help the wicked grin that curved her lips, however, and she leaned over with a conspiratorial grin. "But I do have a split from it I'll bet you. Deal?"

Yuffie reached out a hand to shake on the bet, stifling a helpless giggle at the situation. The trip was going to be very interesting. Very interesting, indeed.


End file.
